The tall man stepped toward Mia, pulling off his sunglasses with a slow, deliberate motion.
A mocking grin spread across his face as he chewed his gum.
“Mia,” he said, voice dripping with arrogance, “let’s make this interesting.
If I win, you spend the night with me.” Mia’s expression turned cold instantly.
“Who the hell are you?
My brother’s not here, so you think you can act crazy?” “I came looking for your brother,” he shrugged.
“Since he’s not here, you’ll do.
Or what…
you don’t have the guts?” “Who says I don’t?” Mia shot back.
“What happens if you lose?” “If I lose,” he said, tapping the hood of his car, “this ride is yours.
Fully built.
Worth over a hundred grand.
All I ask is one night.
You’re not telling me your time is worth more than that, are you?” Laughter erupted across the crowd.
Even some of the women joined in, fanning the tension instead of calming it.
Mia pushed herself off the hood, eyes sharp.
“I’m curious.
What’s your name?” “People call me Blackwood.” The name hit Liam’s ears, and he instinctively searched his memory.
That name never appeared in the original film.
But something about the man felt familiar.
The attitude, the presence…
he carried the same energy as Johnny Tran’s biker crew.
Around him, the crowd began murmuring.
“Blackwood?
I’ve heard of him.” “Yeah, he raced Dom in Miami last year.
Lost by a tenth of a second.” “He runs with biker crews.
Not someone you want to mess with.” The mood shifted.
What started as entertainment was quickly turning dangerous.
More spectators gathered, drinks in hand, circling the confrontation.
“Mia, you gonna take that?” someone shouted.
“If Dom were here, he’d already be lining up,” another voice added.
Whistles and jeers filled the air.
Blackwood stood there, completely relaxed, like a predator toying with its prey.
He had come for Dom.
Without him, Mia was the next best target.
“So?” he pressed.
“You racing me or not?” Mia slammed her glass down on a nearby hood.
“I’ll race.
I’m not afraid of you.” A blonde woman in a bikini strutted up to Blackwood, her voice soft and teasing.
“Need a passenger?
I’ll make sure you enjoy the ride.” Blackwood smirked and pulled her into his arms.
“Of course.
Every racer needs a co-driver.” Then he turned his gaze toward the crowd, eyes sharp as blades.
“Mia, why don’t you pick someone too?
Let’s see which poor idiot is brave enough to sit in your passenger seat tonight.” The moment his eyes swept across the crowd, people instinctively stepped back.
No one wanted to get involved.
“Fine,” Mia snapped, clearly furious.
“I don’t need one.” Tonight had spiraled out of control.
She had only come out for a quick race, something to kill the boredom while Dom and the crew handled business elsewhere.
Now she was trapped in a high-stakes showdown.
Under normal circumstances, plenty of guys would fight for a seat next to her.
But not tonight.
Everyone knew the risk.
Against Blackwood, she was expected to lose.
Anyone riding with her wouldn’t just lose money, they might end up in a ditch…
or worse.
Mia yanked open the door of her silver Chevy Nova, about to get in.
“Hold up.” The voice cut cleanly through the noise.
Liam stepped out from the crowd.
The moment had come.
Waiting any longer would only cost him the opportunity.
“I’ll ride with her.” The crowd instantly turned toward him.
Blackwood raised an eyebrow, amused.
“Well, look at that.
You’ve got guts, kid.
Or maybe you’re just tired of living.
What’s your name?” Liam had no intention of making enemies.
He was here to complete a mission, nothing more.
But the man’s tone still irritated him.
“I’m not riding with you,” Liam said calmly.
“Why does my name matter to you?” The crowd erupted again.
Whistles, laughter, excitement.
“Guy’s got attitude.” “Where’d this dude come from?” A woman nearby called out, “You Korean?
Japanese?
You’ve got that quiet killer vibe.” Liam turned his head slightly, his voice steady.
“I’m American.
Remember that.” “Oh yeah?
Didn’t expect that,” someone replied.
“Street racing’s not exactly mainstream where you’re from, huh?” “That’s none of your business.” Liam turned away, ending the conversation.
He looked toward the race organizer.
“In this kind of open race, anyone in the car can take the wheel, right?” “Yeah,” the organizer nodded.
“If you think you can drive better than your partner, you can switch.
But every stop costs you at least three seconds.
In a race like this, three seconds is everything.” Liam gave a small nod.
He understood perfectly.
Without another word, he walked straight to Mia’s silver Chevy Nova.
He pulled the door open and stepped into the passenger seat.